The Unremarkable Times of Lanson Gate, Chapter 1
My Teacher Doesn't Support Me The First Rule of Saint John’s Military School of Excellence (I know, really long name) is to never be late for class. Well, I already broke that rule obviously. The Second Rule is to wake up at the right time, which I think is pretty stupid because why assign students classes at 12:00 pm if they need to wake up at 5:00 am? I’m probably the unluckiest person you’ll ever meet. Hey, even my own grandparents knew that I was unlucky. When I was little, I used to get into all sorts of weird accidents. So as soon as my mother died, they dropped me off at the Orphanage when I was three. Combine my accidental stunts streak with my ADHD and Dyslexia, and I soon became the ‘unadoptable’ child. So I stayed at the Orphanage for about 15 years until they gave me the boot and sent me to Saint John’s because of a partnership between the two. Three words: Worst. Idea. Ever. My teachers practically loathe me. Maybe they’ve never seen an African-American with spiky hair before. Or maybe it’s because I actually get good grades despite the fact I slack off a lot. Or maybe it was because I blew up half the football field that one time (totally not my fault: how was I supposed to know that gas line was there?). I’ve been in this school for just a year and already have a file larger than most of the senior students. Yeah, let me correct myself. My teachers do loathe me…just very discretely. So here I am: walking down a hallway in a school I really don’t want to attend, late to a class I really didn’t like, and maybe just a little moody. Oh, and have I mentioned that I was hungrier than a grizzly bear (that pizza wasn’t really fulfilling)? Totally not a good way to start off a Friday morning, I’m telling you. When I finally arrived at my class, the bell had already rung and Second Hour was in full swing. I quickly threw the pizza box into a nearby trashcan, straightened my hair, popped in a breath mint, and made sure I had all of my books. I breathed deeply and opened the door. “Ah, Mister Gate,” said Mr. Clark, my English IV Teacher of Evil. “Do you always have to make an entrance?” Some of the kids snickered while the others shot me annoyed glances. A really cute girl named Sadie Carter winked at me and pointed at a desk next to her. I didn’t wink back. While Sadie was cute and all, I really wasn’t that interested in her; she, however, thinks that we were destined for each other. This situation was made even worse by the fact that I had rejected her on numerous occasions, which she was still bitter about and wasn’t afraid to show. I was seriously starting to hope that I didn’t have to sit next to her when I saw my friends Christopher, Jennifer, Aldrea, and Marie sitting in the back waving at me. I headed towards them, and took the empty seat next to Marie that they had saved for me. “So, what have I missed-” I began to ask Marie when Mr. Clark turned around and gave me a look that would’ve made a vampire whimper. I had forgotten how much he hated me (I accidently shredded his favorite suit during freshman year), and coming in late seems to have already place him in “LET’S KILL LANSON” mood today. “Detention, Mr. Gate,” he said sternly. I got halfway out of my seat to protest, but he quickly added, “If you say one more thing that’s entirely irrelevant to our lesson today young man, I will send you to the Isolation Room.” I sat back down, defeated, and placed my head in my hands. Marie placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I gave her a quick smile to show her I was feeling okay. “And since you’re so keen to talk Gate, answer this question.” Mr. Clark got out of his seat and stood in front of his desk. “So, you do remember that we have been reading Shakespeare’s Hamlet? Please tell me how Shakespeare and his plays were so influential.” Ah man. I wiped my eyes and woke myself from the short nap I had just taken, rubbing my left shoulder where one of my strange birthmarks rested. I had two: a spot on my shoulder that was the color of ivory, and a spot on the back of my right hand that was vaguely in the shape of a dragon. Why does he have to always pick on me? It isn’t like I’m failing his class or something. “Yes, Porcupine, tell us.” Sadie snickered. God, I hate that nickname. Ever since I was five, people have been making fun of my hair. The kids at the Orphanage had christened me Porcupine because of it and somehow the nickname had wormed its way into Saint John’s to torment me further. I mouthed to Sadie a very inappropriate word (or set of words, depending on how you look at it) and her face paled. “Quiet, Ms. Carter! So Mr. Gate, do you have an answer?” I swear every time he said my name he made it sound like a joke you wouldn’t tell your grandmother. “Yeah, um… w-was it b-because t-they could change o-opinions?” Gah, I hate my stupid dyslexia! Talking to my friends was easy, but if I talked out loud in front of a large group of people it caused me to stammer a bit sometimes. Almost every kid in the class was holding back laughs while my friends gave me sympathetic looks. “That’s actually correct Mr. Gate,” Mr. Clark said. “Shakespeare could get anyone to admire his work and the work of others easily. He was very-” Suddenly, Mr. Clark’s cellphone began to ring and everyone laughed because his ringtone was ‘Stayin Alive’. Mr. Clark blushed deeply, and excused himself as he answered the call and stepped out of the room. Almost immediately, Sadie got out of her seat and walked to the front of mine, placing her hands on my desk and leaning forward to the point where I had a good view of her- well, let’s just say I had a good view. “You’re taking me to the Winter Formal,” she said. “And after that you’re going to take me out on a date.” Everyone in the class looked our way, like they had the front row seats to a great debate. Actually, most discussions that involve me do have a habit of turning into great debates (I would have joined the debate team actually, but I’m more into sports). “You are pretty…” All of the girls did that ‘ah’ noise except Jennifer, Aldrea, and Marie. The latter blushed crimson, and hastily looked the other way. Some of the guys wolf-whistled humorously. “Yeah, pretty lame,” I finished, and the whole room exploded into laughter while Sadie looked absolutely furious, then smiled as she ran to the chalkboard. She pulled out a pocketknife from the pocket of her mini-skirt, and held it up to the board. “Sadie, what are you doing?” I said, my voice slightly louder but not to the point where Mr. Clark would be able to hear it. “I’m tired of you ignoring me,” she said angrily. “Like I’m not even here. I’m so better than her anyway.” She jerked her head to my left side. “And besides, everyone in this school knows you’re totally into anarchy anyway. Who else would do something like this?” “Sadie, don’t do it!” I warned her. “Seriously, I mean it. You can get expelled if you get caught.” “Oh, I highly doubt that,” Sadie grinned. “Don’t want to date me? Then suffer in the Isolation Room.” And then she scratched a huge line across the chalkboard. The loudest and the most horrible sound issued and I had to clasp my hands around my ears to try to block it. The rest of the class wasn’t faring better. People think nails on a chalkboard sounds bad? Oh no, I needed to find those people and get them to listen to this. I ran to the front of the room as Sadie threw her knife at me as she raced back into her seat. By pure instinct I caught the blade and stopped to observe the damage just as the door opened. Oh. Crap. I am so boned. “What in heaven is going on in-” began Mr. Clark, and then he noticed the slashed board and me standing right in front of it with the knife in my hand. Before I could explain myself, Mr. Clark grabbed me by the back of my neck and threw me into the hallway yelling, “Go to the Isolation Room, you little ingrate! I’m going to get you expelled for this, you hear me Gate?!” Then he slammed the door in my face. I stood there for a moment, completely stunned. Then I shrugged and ran a hand through my hair, trying to straighten it back out. Of course, I failed. I calmly began to walk towards the Isolation Room; maybe I could stop by the Cafeteria and snatch a pizza on the way. 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